


Routine

by strawberriesandtophats



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Gen, M/M, No Smut, Pain Management
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: AU WHERE REESE GIVES FINCH BACKRUBS WHEN HE’S HURTING.</p>
<p>Harold is in a lot of pain. John helps him out by taking care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> This is two days too late, sorry about that!

When John came inside the Library after his usual morning run, Bear panting happily beside him Finch was sitting at his workstation in a wheelchair. John had seen that particular wheelchair in one of the many broom closets in the Library, and had even had to use it himself when recovering, but he had never seen Harold use it before. The sound of typing stopped.

“Good morning, Mr. Reese,“ Harold said, his voice even. Bear ventured towards Harold, carefully sniffing at the metal chair and receiving a pat on the head. “I am afraid that there is no new Number yet. I am updating some of our aliases. You are welcome to stay here if you want, or take the day off.“

John looked at the chair and at Harold‘s abnormally stiff movements, aware of the fact that Harold knew that he would not take the latter option, but offering it all the same. He walked towards the older man, who turned the wheelchair around to face him. Harold‘s face was extremely pale, sweat visible on his brow and his fingers were shaking slightly. John noticed that instead of his usual three piece suit Harold was wearing a rather loose shirt and a waistcoat in a warm brown color that looked incredibly soft and comfortable. His coat was on a peg in the hallway along with a scarf.  
Also, there was no cup of tea beside Harold‘s fancy keyboard and mouse, another clear sign of his distress.  
“I think I‘ll stay here with you, Harold,“ John replied, receiving a tiny smile from Harold as well as a nod of acknowledgement.

Bear whined and dropped his new chew toy in front of Harold, possibly trying to cheer him up by sharing his toy, which John had bought several days ago so that Bear would spend his time chewing the tough rubber dog toy shaped like a bone instead of Harold‘s books or shoes.

“Where are you from 1-10 on the pain scale?“ John asked, his voice gentle and placed his hand on Harold‘s shoulder. He could feel Harold relax minutely underneath his fingers and sigh deeply. 

“Around 9 at the moment,“ Harold replied quietly, “I could barely think when I woke up, and it was by pure chance that I had remembered to place a glass of water and my emergency medication on the nightstand.“ Harold‘s breathing was just a smidgen to shallow, as if he was trying his best to mask his pain.

That explained why Harold had not been at the Library when John had showed up earlier this morning, John thought, it had taken time for the medication to kick in and for Harold to be able to get dressed and moving.

“We could go to my place and you could rest. It looks like we have the day off, and we should use it well,“ John suggested, trying his best to sound persuasive. Despite all his training as an international spy, a lot of tactics just plain didn‘t work on Harold. “I have some of that heat-cream you like so much, and Bear wouldn‘t mind riding in the car with us.“

Truth to be told, John expected Harold to refuse his offer gently and continuing to work on his computer. That John would have to sit on the sofa, reading or cleaning his guns until Harold would consider it time to go home and take care of the pain, probably by himself. John watched Harold swallow two pills from separate containers. It was the sort of medication that would make him slightly disorientated, but would do wonders with the pain and the muscle tension. John had seen Harold take it before, but only after the Number had been taken care of and they had arrived in the safe house of choice. 

“That sounds agreeable, Harold said thoughtfully, „I am afraid that continuing to work in this state would not be very productive or good for my health-“

It had started slowly, this routine of theirs, John thought as the two men and Bear headed out. Stuffing some hand warmers into Harold‘s coat and jacket pockets at wintertime had a positive result, and stocking up on over-the counter pain medication and heat creams has been a good decision as well, as when Harold had overworked himself, he would often respond in a pleased manner when he would find these things in the Library closets or in his desk drawers.  
They reached John‘s apartment in no time, mostly due to the fact that when John‘s expression when pushing Harold‘s wheelchair was extremely determined, and the fact that Bear was wearing his service vest, both of which caused people to move out of their way when they had parked the car. Bear was not happy about wearing his service vest, until they had explained to him that he was going undercover and promised him a nice steak meal. 

Harold was distantly aware that his perception of time was slightly off, as the stronger medication started to have their effects. He looked around the hallway as John pushed the wheelchair into the apartment, feeling the overwhelming relief of being somewhere and with someone considered safe and able to provide some sort of security after a harrowing event.

Before John, there had only really been Nathan to fulfill that role, and Nathan had never really done any of this to make Harold feel better. Nathan would cheer him up and they would have fun, but Nathan had not offered deep-tissue massages, cook him meals, at least not on a personal level such as this. It should also be mentioned that Nathan, although a very good friend on the whole had not demonstrated Harold’s worth to him by physically beating up several people to keep him safe. However, Nathan had bought him doughnuts, Harold’s brain supplied, so there were similarities in how they operated when taking care of Harold, at least superficially. 

As soon as Harold had put away his coat and scarf, John had helped him to the sofa where he sat comfortably, arranging some pillows so that his back had some support. John was pouring hot water into a big coffee mug and put a cardboard box filled with all kinds of teabags on the coffee table in front of Harold, sipping the black coffee in his own mug. Harold noticed that the mugs were a part of a set, both with the same pattern.

Harold smiled at Reese, and took the tea cup gratefully. He noted that John‘s expression turned from one of concentration to one of clear adoration and fondness. The older man had seen the term “heart eyes“ online several times when he had not been working and felt that this was the appropriate term for the way John was looking at him.

There were times when Harold did not understand why John would behave in such a manner. After all, despite the fact that they had gone through a lot together and had a lot of experiences that were known to strengthen the bond between two individuals, John could, if he so desired, have practically anyone he wanted. And yet he was here, placing his coffee mug on the table and taking care of Harold. After all this time, despite the fact that Harold had made it clear that John was free to go whenever he pleased. Free to do what he wanted.   
Harold watched John sit down beside him and put an arm around his shoulder companionably with a small smile.

Somehow, this had become routine for when he was seriously injured or in too much pain. John would take him to his place and they would relax for a while before John would offer him a back massage, which often ended up being a whole body massage, where John would dig his fingers into Harold‘s hips and rub his aching feet as well.  
Afterwards, Harold would shower or take a bath and they would sleep together, hands linked, on John‘s massive bed. Harold could already smell the massage oil and felt John‘s warm hand on his shoulder. Harold leaned in, resting his head in the crook of John‘s neck and sighed deeply and closed his eyes, feeling some of the tension in his shoulders melt away already. He looked at John, who looked as content as Harold felt, and who leaned back, resting his head against Harold's with a small hum.

The End


End file.
